Authors: Ilsa Evans
‘Bloody better.’
‘Come on, Matt.’ Adam gathered up the pens into a bundle again and tapped them on the table impatiently. ‘We’re just waiting on you now.’
‘Look!’ said Emily in desperation, pointing to the clock. ‘Look at the time! They’ll be lining up for the next race any minute!’
Adam followed her gaze to the clock then pushed his chair back violently and jumped up. ‘You’re right, damn it!’
Emily watched him run into the lounge-room, the pens still gathered in his hand. Through the doorway she saw him throw himself back into the two-seater couch and then lean forward to watch the preliminaries intently. This was unbelievable. She turned to Megan, who, still staring dumbstruck at her grandmother, appeared to have ceased all intelligent activity. Her grandmother, on the other hand, was writing furiously,
pausing every so often to suck the tip of her pen and frown with concentration.
Meanwhile, Matt had pushed his now completed sheet of paper across the table and left the room also, with Cricket bouncing in his wake. Emily turned to Megan and clicked her fingers in front of the girl’s face several times.
‘Megan! Megan, snap out of it!’
‘Is she peeking?’ asked Mary, looking suspiciously at her grand-daughter as she covered her paper up with one hand. ‘Tell her to stop.’
‘
Megan
!’
‘Oh god,’ moaned Megan, finally focusing on her aunt. ‘Oh god.’
‘Come on,’ Emily tried to sound upbeat, ‘the end’s in sight. We’ll just go into the lounge-room and get the pens from Uncle Adam. He won’t even notice, if the race’s on. Then we see if it’s ruined, and if it is we just throw it away and start again.’
‘Oh god.’
‘So isn’t it lucky you got two! You were right, it
was
more economical – and it saves you another walk. Come on, think positive.’
‘I
am
positive!’ Megan mumbled unhappily. ‘I want my mum.’
‘Come on, we can manage this.’
‘I want my mum.’
‘Don’t we all,’ muttered Emily, taking a deep breath as she abandoned the positive outlook. ‘Don’t we bloody all.’
As they passed through the Dorset Road intersection in central Boronia, Jill was enormously gratified to see Caron, a
woman she knew from Cricket’s playgroup, standing by the road with her twins, waiting for the lights to change. Caron’s mouth dropped open when she recognised Jill, so Jill gave her a royal wave as they streamed past in Tim’s gun-metal grey MG convertible.
When he had turned up at Emily’s apartment and announced that he had been instructed to collect her forthwith, Jill had been, after the initial embarrassment, incredibly relieved. Firstly, because it meant that they must want her presence after all, and secondly, because she had been just about ready to give up and ring him herself. Then, when she had collected her belongings and followed him out to his car, she had been childishly thrilled to see the type of car he drove. And the trip had been fantastic. Drivers of other cars glanced over enviously as they pulled up beside them at traffic lights, and children pressed their faces against the back windows to stare at them as they idled along behind. Tim had lowered the top after she clambered in, explaining that it was the first mild day they had had in a while and they might as well take advantage of it. Privately she suspected that he was aware of the pleasure she was getting from the car, and wanted to show it off.
Somewhere around South Yarra, they had started chatting and Tim confessed that he rarely got the chance to drive the car during the week as home, work and play (by which she took him to mean her sister) were only a stone’s throw from each other and therefore a lot easier to access by tram. It was one of the reasons that he loved weekends, when he spent at least one day picking out a destination and just driving. Jill found him surprisingly easy to talk to, no doubt assisted by the fact she kept forgetting that this pleasant-mannered young man, dressed impeccably in black trousers, a gun-metal grey shirt (to match the car?) and black leather jacket, was the same
person who had sat naked on her bed last night after having given her a rather erotic body massage that had culminated in the cupping of her right breast. Not for the first time, she thanked the flexibility of her memory processes and decided to keep forgetting for as long as she could.
Soon after they passed Caron, Jill sank back in the well-padded black leather seat with a self-satisfied grin on her face. Tim glanced across at her briefly and, putting his blinker on, coasted over to a parking space at the edge of Boronia Road. Then he turned the ignition off and turned to her.
‘Want to drive?’
‘Are you serious?’ Jill looked at him with surprise. ‘Me, drive this?’
‘Sure, if you want to,’ said Tim easily, undoing his seatbelt. ‘It makes sense. You know where we’re going and I don’t.’
‘O
kay
!’ Jill flung off her seatbelt enthusiastically and opened her door, trying not to run as she went around behind the car, passing Tim as he crossed over to the passenger side with a grin.
‘Now just take it easy,’ he instructed as they belted themselves in, ‘it’s got a powerful lot of grunt for a small car.’
‘No problem.’ Jill turned the ignition over and listened to the engine settle into a rumbly purr. As she sat there with both hands on the wheel, savouring the moment, she glanced up into the rear vision mirror and spotted Caron, who had paused on her way into the hot-bread shop on the corner and, with her twins dancing around her, was staring at the MG with overt curiosity. Jill waved gleefully and took off.
Before she had even turned into Forest Road, which led, after a series of twists and turns around the foothills of Upper Ferntree Gully, to the far end of her street, Jill had decided that the car was an orgasm on wheels. And one day, by hook or by crook, she was going to own one. After all, if what she was
going through was a mid-life crisis, then wasn’t a fast car part of it? If she had to put up with the soul-searching and the agonising life decisions, she might as well reap the rewards too. And this – the cruising smoothly along familiar roads with her hair gusting around her face and almost unlimited power resting casually just below her right foot – this was most definitely one of them. Bring it on, thought Jill triumphantly, bring it on.
Race Four, 12.40 pm
The fourth race had just finished as Emily and Megan joined the company in the lounge-room. They left Mary at the dining-room table, still furiously scribbling answers across her quiz sheet and glaring distrustfully at anybody who came too close. In the lounge-room, Adam, with the bundle of pens nowhere in sight, was sourly tearing yet another betting slip into thin strips and scattering the pieces on the floor as he did so. Nearby, Matt appeared in a better mood.
‘Another one. A second this time,’ he announced, happily adding to his tally on the kids’ sheet stuck to the television set. ‘But Kate won. Again.’
‘When’s lunch?’ James Carstairs interrupted his steady survey of the opposite wall to flash Emily a surly look. ‘Starving.’
‘Yes, me too!’ Cricket gathered together her row of little horses and jumped up. ‘I want lunch!’
‘Lunch?’ repeated Emily stupidly. She stopped trying to work out what Adam had done with the pens and turned to look at James instead. ‘What do you mean, lunch?’
‘Lunch,’ said James slowly, obviously enjoying her discomfiture, ‘you know, that meal people have in the middle of the day. Between breakfast and dinner.’
‘I
know
what lunch is,’ snapped Emily, giving him an irritated look.
‘Cool,’ said Matt, ‘what is it then?’
At that moment the front door could be heard opening and, a few seconds later, Jack and Sybil reappeared in the lounge-room, closely followed by a scowling Kate. Lunch was temporarily forgotten as everybody inundated them with questions about Lassie.
‘He’ll live.’ Jack sat down on the armrest of the two-seater and sighed. ‘Concussion, and a couple of stitches. They’re keeping him overnight.’
‘Hey, you’ve been bleeding,’ said Emily, looking down at one of his hands, which sported several cuts crusted with dried blood.
‘Yeah, there were bits of glass all over the blanket.’ Jack looked down at his hand with disgust. ‘Sliced me up while I was carrying the stupid dog.’
‘Lathie’th not thtupid!’ cried Cricket, stung. ‘He’th thick!’
‘Enunciate, Cricket!’
‘Anyway, we were very lucky to be seen so quickly,’ commented Sybil, ‘given that they were the only vet open for miles.’
‘Yeah,’ said Jack bitterly, ‘a holiday surcharge on top of the bill. There goes my winnings from the first race, plus some.’
‘Dum-diddle-diddle-dum . . . how
much
is that do-ggie in the window . . .’ sang Mary happily from the family room. ‘Good lord, I can’t remember the rest.’
‘Thank god,’ mumbled Jack fiercely.
‘Well, mate, the last race hasn’t helped you any –’ Adam threw the last of his torn-up slip in the air – ‘or me.’
‘What’s for lunch?’ asked Jack, glancing over at Emily expectantly. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Hey, totally cool!’ Matt, who had sat himself down next to Adam on the two-seater, was twisted around and staring out of the lounge-room window behind him. ‘It’s Mum! Driving an MG convertible!’
‘What?’ yelled his father, turning around to witness this himself. ‘No!’
‘
Mummy
!’ shrieked Cricket, bouncing over to the couch and clambering up onto her brother to see out the window. ‘My mummy!’
‘Mum,’ breathed Megan with relief and then, obviously remembering Certain Things, started playing with her bracelets worriedly.
‘My word,’ said Margaret Carstairs, turning to her husband and blinking at him, ‘isn’t that lovely, dear. Jill’s here.’
‘Good of her to join us,’ he replied sarcastically.
‘And it’s about time.’ Emily walked over to stand before the couch and peer over everybody’s head at the driveway and the road beyond. Sure enough, Tim’s grey MG was pulled over to the kerb and Jill, who was just getting out of the driver’s side, looked up and waved happily. Leaving Tim to pull the top up and lock the car, she hurried up the driveway, beaming through the window at her assorted family members.
‘She’s wearing my top,’ muttered Emily crossly.
‘She’s driving my car,’ said Matt.
‘In your dreams.’ Kate, who hadn’t said a word since getting back from the vet, walked out of the room and towards the front door to open it for her mother. While she was gone, Jack stood up abruptly and stalked out to the kitchen. He was followed relatively quickly by Sybil. Seconds later, Jill appeared in the doorway with one arm around her daughter and a smile worthy of the Prodigal Son.
‘I’m back!’ she announced grandly.
‘No kidding,’ said Emily shortly. ‘Enjoy yourself, did you?’
‘Mummy!’ Cricket tumbled down off the couch and flew across the room into Jill, clambering up her body with such dexterity that, within moments, she was perched securely on her mother’s hip with an arm around her. She smiled with contentment and lay her fluffy red head against Jill’s shoulder.
‘Hey, Mum,’ said Matt, slightly more controlled, ‘cool car.’
‘Isn’t it just?’ Jill looked happily around the room. ‘I’m going to get one some day. Megan, darling! Cricket, darling – your hair! Your clothes! Oh, and hello, James, Margaret. How nice of you to come.’
‘Pleasure,’ said Margaret, blinking spasmodically at her daughter-in-law. ‘My word, you’re looking lovely today.’
‘True,’ said James unexpectedly, allowing his craggy features to soften momentarily before he brought them under control again.
‘Why, thank you!’ Jill beamed at them. ‘I’m feeling lovely too!’
‘Yeah,’ Emily glared at her sister, ‘nice vest. Matches your teeth.’
‘God!’ Jill stopped smiling. ‘They’re not
still
grey? I cleaned them!’
‘Should try bicarb, dear,’ volunteered Margaret helpfully, ‘that’s what we use.’
‘Aren’t you going to say hello to me,’ asked Adam, perched on the two-seater slightly behind where Jill was standing, ‘after all the effort I took to get here?’
‘
Adam
! You came!’ Jill tried to move towards him, but was weighed down by her youngest daughter on one side and the second youngest on the other, so she settled for a welcoming but rather closed-mouth smile.
‘And saw, and conquered – as it says.’ Adam gestured briefly towards his T-shirt before smiling back at his sister. ‘I must say you’re looking well.’
‘Amazing what a break can do, hey?’ Jill, removing the arm she had draped across Kate so that she could cover her mouth with one hand, looked around as if she had just noticed that someone was missing. ‘Where’s Jack?’
‘In the kitchen,’ replied Kate sourly, ‘with her.’
‘Her? Her who?’
‘Hey,’ interrupted Emily, ‘what have you done with my boyfriend?’
‘What?’ Jill started, and then looked across at her sister wide-eyed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Calm down. I’m not accusing you of anything.’ Emily laughed to cover her surprise at Jill’s reaction. ‘I’m only asking where he
is
, that’s all.’
‘He’s coming,’ Jill replied, without quite meeting Emily’s eyes. ‘Just locking the car or something.’
‘Fine.’ Emily frowned across at Jill. ‘And what about you? Did you purge yourself? Have you come back as a new woman? Why’re you staring at my chest?’
‘I’m not!’ Jill’s eyes shot up to Emily’s face. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘O-kay,’ Emily replied slowly. Then she shrugged dismissively and walked past her sister towards the front door. There she met Tim, who was just wiping his shoes on the doormat, so she threw her arms out and gave him a generous hug.
‘Hey, you.’ Emily stood back and grinned at him, feeling proud that he looked so hot.
‘Hey, yourself.’
‘Come on.’ She closed the door behind him and linked an arm through his, leading him back towards the lounge-room. ‘Let me introduce you.’
‘Fine. Great.’
‘You know Jill, of course,’ Emily said as soon as they reentered the room, ‘and this is her daughter Kate, and her
daughter Cricket. Then over there’s another daughter, Megan, and her in-laws, Margaret and James Carstairs.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’ Tim smiled politely at Margaret and then reached forward to shake the hand that James had extended. ‘And you.’
‘And over here still staring at your car is Jill’s son, Matt.’
‘Cool car, man.’
‘Sure is,’ grinned Tim.
‘And, saving the best for last – my brother, Adam. Adam, this is my boyfriend, Tim.’
‘Your boyfriend,’ repeated Adam, standing to shake Tim’s hand. ‘How . . . you didn’t tell me you had a new boyfriend, Emily.’
‘Since when do I tell you everything?’ asked Emily, frowning slightly as she glanced from Adam to Tim and the overly formal, expressionless way they were shaking hands. ‘Hey, do you two
know
each other?’
‘Oh
no
,’ commented Adam evenly, removing his hand and sitting back down on the couch. ‘No, I don’t know him at all. Never did.’
‘Ditto,’ said Tim shortly, glancing briefly at Adam’s T-shirt logo and letting a slight sneer flicker over his features, ‘not at all.’
‘Okay,’ said Emily equably.
‘I’m going to clean my . . . have a wash.’ Jill dropped her hand away from her mouth and gave Kate a quick one-armed hug before lowering Cricket to the floor. ‘Back in a few minutes, guys.’
‘What a lovely young man,’ Margaret stage-whispered to Emily. ‘So handsome. Is he American?’
‘Only by birth,’ Emily explained as she tugged on Tim’s arm. ‘Come on, you need to meet Jack too.’ As she led Tim from the room, she frowned over her shoulder at Adam, who
was levering himself sideways, retrieving a few of the pens from under the edge of the couch cushion. It didn’t take a genius to work out that Adam and Tim did, in fact, know each other and didn’t like what they knew. As Tim was an architect and Adam an interior designer, the knowing each other part wasn’t as much of a surprise as the obvious dislike. Emily resolved to get to the bottom of it – at some stage.
In the next room, Jill was perched on a stool at the island bench expressionlessly watching Sybil apply Band-Aids to her husband’s hand. She looked over as Emily entered the room.
‘Beast,’ said Jill evenly, ‘I checked my teeth and they’re perfectly fine.’
‘Can I help it if you assumed that I was referring to the
grey
part of the vest?’ replied Emily, leaning against the counter and helping herself to a sandwich from the platter on the bench.
‘I’ll have you know they were only grey yesterday because I sucked on some ink.’
‘Whatever turns you on,’ commented Emily.
‘Like cans of whipped cream, you mean?’ asked Jill, raising her eyebrows questioningly. ‘Or extra-large, double-ribbed –’
‘Yes, exactly!’ Emily interrupted, flashing a quick glance back at Tim, who was listening with interest. ‘Aren’t you a bloody snoop!’
‘And here I was thinking suburbia was fairly . . . suburban, if you know what I mean,’ commented Sybil, looking from one sister to another. ‘I stand corrected. The games you people play!’
‘That’s right, a veritable smorgasbord of entertainment,’ replied Jill derisively. ‘Some days it’s just like being on a roller coaster.’
‘Speaking of roller coasters, did you enjoy your drive?’ asked Jack with exaggerated politeness, glancing across at his wife as Sybil, with a big grin, smoothed a Bart Simpson Band-Aid across his palm.
‘Yes, thank you. And you look like you’ve been enjoying yourself too.’
‘Ah, have you met Sybil?’
‘No, I don’t believe I have.’
‘Let me do the honours,’ interjected Emily, dragging Tim across to the island bench with her. ‘This is Tim, my boyfriend, and this is Jill, who is Jack’s wife. And that’s Jack, and holding his hand is Sybil, who’s the cousin of our other sister’s husband. Neither of whom are here. Everyone got that?’
‘Hang on . . .’ Tim looked from Jack to Jill and then back again. ‘Jack – and Jill. You’re Jack and Jill! Like from up the hill!’
‘Good heavens,’ said Jack, trying to lever his hand away from Sybil’s attentions, ‘you’re kidding! Married for nearly twenty years and we never realised that.’
‘No need to be sarcastic,’ said Jill, frowning at him.
‘So
this
is the wife you were telling me about,’ Sybil smiled easily at Jill and finally released her unwilling patient, extending her hand. ‘I’m sure we must have met at Corinne’s wedding but, well, so many people! Anyway, lovely to meet you again.’
‘Likewise,’ Jill said tightly as she shook hands. ‘So pleased Corinne invited you. Please feel free to make yourself at home. What’s mine is yours.’ Jill paused to glance stonily at Jack’s hand, then flicked her eyes up to his face. ‘Oh, and nice to see that you only wait till I’m gone five minutes before you rearrange the furniture, Jack. I’m talking about that couch over there. Against the window. It looks ridiculous. And who dressed Cricket? She looks like a beggar – and her hair! Don’t tell me you put her to bed last night with wet hair?’
‘Where
is
it?’ Megan, coming up behind Emily, whispered fiercely into her ear: ‘What’s he done with it?’
‘It’s under control,’ Emily whispered back, with a confidence she was far from feeling. ‘Just don’t worry, okay?’
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Jill frowned from Emily to her daughter.
‘Excuse me, Aunt Jill?’ Charlotte materialised by her aunt’s left arm. ‘Could you please tell me if you have a piano?’
‘Why, hello, Charlotte,’ Jill smiled down at her niece. ‘A piano? No, of course not.’
‘I thought not,’ Charlotte replied evenly, flicking a brief but telling glance at Emily before wandering into the lounge-room.
‘Strange girl,’ commented Jill as she watched her go. ‘Very strange indeed.’
‘That’s it!’ Mary Broadhurst slapped her pen down on the table and grinned at up them with relief. ‘This was a
real
tricky one. But I think I got there. What’s for lunch?’
‘Yes, what
is
for lunch?’
‘Yeah, I’m starving!’ said Matt, sticking his head around the doorway.
‘Me too,’ said Megan, nodding emphatically at her mother. ‘
That’s
what I was whispering about!’
‘Good question.’ Jill propped her face in her hands and looked enquiringly at Emily. ‘Isn’t lunch running a bit late, o-person in charge?’
‘Why are you looking at me?’ Emily pointed towards Jack. ‘What about
him
?’